


The Hammered Anvil

by ladyroxanne21



Series: Eloped?! [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental eloping, Drunken Shenanigans, Gretna Green, If you know anything about Gretna Green then you know where I'm going with this, M/M, drunk teens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 14:39:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10743753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: After nearly killing Draco in the Sixth Floor Boys' Bathroom, Harry decides to apologize by giving Draco a bottle of the most expensive liquor he can find. Things quickly go astray.





	The Hammered Anvil

**Author's Note:**

> In Scotland, the legal age to get married - parental consent or not - is 16. Look it up, it's rather fascinating, lol! At the time this takes place, it was *not* legal for same sex couples to get married, but I'm going to wave the artistic license wand and say that it *was* in the magical world of Harry Potter, lol :-D

The first Friday after Draco was let out of the infirmary after nearly being killed by Harry Potter in the sixth floor boys' bathroom, he was surprised to find his peaceful evening walk by the lake disturbed by none other than the near murderer himself. His left brow almost immediately raised itself in challenge even as he withdrew his wand to protect himself if necessary. To his surprise, it wasn't necessary.

“Here, take this, and if you still want to hex me in a few minutes, I'll hold still and let you,” Harry muttered, almost incomprehensibly, as he held out a large bottle of Dragon Barrel Brandy.

Draco studied the bottle in Harry's hand carefully before turning his suspicious eyes on Harry himself. “And _why_ would I want to drink _anything_ you have to offer me?”

Harry looked at the bottle in his hand in disappointment. “This is supposed to be the finest alcohol, aged for at least 150 years. I thought it would be just the sort of poncy thing you'd go for.”

Draco held up his hands and waved them a little as if wiping away Harry's words. “No, I mean why would I drink anything from you when it's probably poisoned?”

Harry sighed and ran his free hand through his perpetually messy black hair. “Listen, I wouldn't poison Voldemort himself – or even my Uncle Vernon, although...” he trailed off with a speculative look on his face. His expression turn a little amused, as if the thought of poisoning this Uncle Vernon person was actually rather tempting.

He quickly cleared his throat and pressed on. “I was just hoping, Malfoy, to say that I'm sorry for accidentally almost killing you. I hoped to give you something, er...  _expensive_ and...” At this point, he nearly tore some hair out in an attempt to find a word to adequately describe what he meant. He gave up with a huff of frustration. “I don't know! Just, well, take it. You can drink it or not. And if you think that it's not enough of an apology and still want to hex me, well... I won't stop you or defend myself.”

Draco studied the bottle again, and then slowly reached out to take it from Harry. He promptly cast a detection spell on it, but it was free from poison. Confused, Draco pointed his wand at Harry again. This was actually more of a habitual gesture than a true threat – the way that a scribe might point a quill at someone while talking – but Harry took it as a threat and responded by sighing and closing his eyes before Draco could even say a word.

Intrigued to see if Harry really was giving him a carte blanche to hex him, Draco cast a light stinging hex on Harry's left arm. Harry inhaled a mildly sizzling breath, but otherwise did nothing. After a moment, he opened one eye to peek at Draco.

“That's it?”

Draco was tempted to laugh, but he held it in. “I've decided that I'm going to reserve the right to truly hex you in any way I so desire for another occasion when I'm more properly in the mood to rip you to shreds. As for now, I'm actually rather curious to taste this famously well-aged brandy. I do hope you aren't expecting me to share it with you.”

“Er, no,” Harry stated with a shake of his head. “It's an apology gift, and so, yours to do whatever you want with.”

Draco let out a disgruntled sigh. “Listen, Potter, I know you have a low opinion of purebloods, but actually, gifts such as these are  _supposed_ to be shared. At least the first taste. Manners dictate it, and I refused to be an uncultured swine such as you, so...”

With a precise swish of his wand, Draco transfigured two nearby rocks into four-ounce snifters. Then he opened the bottle – biting his lip to prevent a smile of appreciation at the actual  _quality_ of the alcohol – and poured a measure into each glass, handing one to Harry.

Harry stared at his glass apprehensively.

Draco quirked an eyebrow at him. “Or did you sabotage it after all?”

Harry flushed and shook his head. “The strongest drink I've ever had was a glass of Madam Rosmerta's finest oak-matured mead. Which was nice, but I have a feeling that this will be like drinking liquid fire.”

Draco chuckled as softly as he could, trying to hide such a genuine response from Harry but not able to suppress it completely. “Yes, well, I  _have_ had fine liquor before, and while it can be a bit sharp at first, it's also smooth and easy to drink. See?”

As confident as he was, even Draco wasn't quite fully prepared for the full force of brandy that had been aged 150 years. It was  _strong_ ! In a good way, yes, but still enough to take his breath away.

Not willing to be out-Gryffindor'd by a Slytherin, Harry quickly downed his drink too – which was promptly followed by a copious amount of hacking coughs. Strangely enough, once he calmed a little, he could see what Draco was talking about. The alcohol quickly spread a pleasant warmth through his body that more than made up for the momentary discomfort.

Draco didn't have more than one small cough before he composed himself. He was more than a little amused by Harry's reaction. With a smug smirk, he held up the bottle.

“Another?”

Harry flushed, not so stupid that he didn't recognize the attempt to embarrass him again. However, his tenacious inner Gryffindor wouldn't let him back down from a challenge. With a nod, he held out his glass.

Draco refilled both their glasses, and then used the trick of holding his breath as he downed the brandy. Afterwards, he mentally kicked himself for not remembering that this was the sort of alcohol that was intended to be sipped slowly and savored. He bit back a sigh as he decided that drinking with a Gryffindor was having a deleterious effect on his mental faculties.

Harry also downed his drink, and was happy that he only coughed a couple of times. “Actually, I'm starting to really like the taste of this. Don't hex me for being common, but I think that it would taste very good mixed with a cherry cola or, well, some sort of fruit juice.” Even as he said this, he held out his glass for another refill.

Draco narrowed his eyes, but honestly, they hadn't even put a good sized dent in the contents of the bottle, so he figured that  _one_ more drink couldn't hurt.

A half an hour later, the bottle was almost half empty and both boys were so drunk that they had devolved into helpless giggles and couldn't stand up straight unless they were leaning against each other. Draco would have been shocked – if he could think straight – by several things: That they hadn't been caught being the most important followed by the fact that no one had come looking for Harry. He really might have assumed that the other two members of the Golden Trio would have hunted Harry down and dragged him back to his common room by now.

As it was, Draco just barely had the mental capacity to order a house elf to bring the bottle to his dorm before he nearly dropped it in his unsteadiness. Then he had an utterly  _mad_ idea. A mad yet brilliant idea!

“H's'm'd!” Draco blurted out excitedly.

“H's'm'd?” Harry asked curiously.

Draco pointed in the direction of the nearby town.

“ _Oh! Hogsmeade_!” Harry stated with a pronounced slur. Then he pointed in a slightly different direction. “W'm'pin w'lo!”

“Huh?” Draco asked in utter confusion.

Harry shook his head and sighed impatiently. “Tree!”

When Draco still didn't understand, he grabbed Draco's hand and half dragged him in the direction of the highly dangerous tree. When they arrived at a safe distance, Harry gathered up a handful of largish rocks and proceeded to chuck them at the tree until one hit the secret knot that immobilized it. Elated, Harry whooped for joy and resumed dragging Draco – who now resisted as he could sort of recall that there was a very good reason to be wary of the tree.

To his surprise, Harry dragged him into a tunnel under the tree. They stumbled and staggered their way through the tunnel for what seemed like forever, until they reached a house. Harry looked positively triumphant as he smirked at Draco.

“Wha'now?”

Rather than answer, Draco scrunched his eyes shut and tried to picture the meadow behind the Malfoy property in the Scottish Lowlands. The property was near enough that he should be able to Apparate to it easily. After that, he had plans to challenge Harry to a Seekers' game in the meadow – a place where no one would be able to find them. He was too drunk to remember that Apparating while drunk was seriously dangerous, and also, that they'd probably get into far more trouble than it was worth for leaving school grounds without permission.

Fortunately for both of them, Draco had enough control to seize Harry's arm and Apparate them to a gorgeous meadow that was illuminated by the slowly setting sun. Without killing them both. Or worse, splinching them horribly.

As Harry looked around in confusion – not recognizing their surroundings, which he wouldn't even if he was sober – Draco dug in his pocket with a frown.

“Where snitch?”

Harry gasped and pointed at something that was glinting in the sky. “There snitch!”

Draco looked up in surprise. When he saw the glinting thing, he pointed at it too. “Yes! Catch it!” Then he took off running toward it.

A moment later, Harry realized that he was going to lose the snitch to Draco if he didn't hurry, so he sprinted after the staggering boy. They never did manage to get any closer to the glinting thing, but they did stumble across a village. At that point, they had forgotten all about the snitch and were just chasing each other around while laughing like mad.

When they reached an ornately decorated trellis over a stylized anvil, both stopped short to stare at it in confusion. Why would any blacksmith want his (or her) anvil out in a field (yard?) under a vine covered and budding archway? They looked around to see if there was anyone nearby who could explain this.

A man jogged over to them with a smile on his face that turned to puzzlement, and then a frown. “Are you even 16?”

“Yes!” Both Harry and Draco blurted indignantly.

“And you're _certain_ about this?”

Harry and Draco exchanged amused looks. Why wouldn't they be certain about their age? “ _Yes._ ”

The man shrugged, and then gestured to the anvil. “I think I'll go with the quick one so I can get to bed. I daresay that you'll both be wanting a bed as soon as possible as well. Lucky for you, I have rooms available to rent. Anyway, place your hands on the anvil.”

Draco tilted his head to the side with a slight frown. “My  _wand_ hand?”

Harry shoved him lightly and hissed: “Muggle!”

The man laughed. “Ah! I see. Yes, your wand hand.”

Exchanging curious looks, both Harry and Draco decided to humor the man who was now grinning at them knowingly. They knelt on either side of the anvil and put their right hands on it. The man looked around and finding no one, pulled out his wand.

“I said quick, right? Well there's nothing quicker than this!” He conjured a piece of parchment under their hands, and then cast very precise cutting hexes on their thumbs so that a couple drops of blood dripped onto the parchment from each of them. 

Words slowly formed on the paper as each boy reflexively stuck his thumb in his mouth. The man grabbed the parchment, cast a duplication spell on it, and then handed one to Harry. He then gestured to them to get to their feet.

“About that room, boys... Bloody hell! _Harry Potter?!_ ” The man practically shouted in his astonishment. He was staring at the parchment in his hands. He stuttered incoherently for a few seconds, making Draco snicker mercilessly.

Finally getting just a little control over his tongue, the man blurted out. “It'll be my honor to give you my best room – without charge – Mr. Potter!”

“Er...” Harry looked at Draco in confusion. Then he realized that they were probably still too drunk to Apparate back to Hogwarts, so he shrugged. “Alright?”

Draco shrugged too, because he was actually getting just tired enough that he didn't really want to Apparate. Without another word, they followed the man and were soon settled into a room that was a nice balance between tastefully rich decorations and cozy warmth. There was only one large bed, which both boys stared at in confusion for a moment before a sly expression crossed Draco's face.

“Y'know... if you really want to make up for nearly killing me, you could always let me shag you,” he said in a slow drawl so that all the words came out more or less understandable.

Harry bit his lip and glanced back and forth between Draco and the bed as he thought this over. Slowly, he nodded. With the smuggest grin Harry had ever seen (which was really saying something considering who this was), Draco promptly attacked Harry and stripped him naked.

At first, Harry was too stunned to really do much of anything, but then he decided that there was  _no way_ that he was going to be out-Gryffindor'd by a  _Slytherin_ (again). Thus, he returned the bold gesture by stripping Draco off as well. The moment they were both naked – their clothes and wands all tossed carelessly around the room – Draco pushed Harry onto the bed and sucked a trail of vivid bruises down the left side of his neck; a favor which Harry returned.

Perhaps because they were both still fairly drunk, time seemed to pass in a blur. There seemed to be  _hours_ of licking and sucking on all parts of each other's bodies. Even the stranger parts, such as knee caps and toes.

The feelings were all so new and wonderful for Harry that he nearly forgot his own name at several points. His drunken fog cleared after a long while, leaving Harry certain about just one thing; he was  _never_ going to forget the feeling of being inside Draco or – astonishingly – the even  _better_ feel of Draco inside him.

By the time that they ran out of energy – and had collapsed into a thoroughly sated pile – both boys were no longer drunk. However, they  _were_ exhausted and lethargic. Harry didn't even care that Draco seemed to be the consistency of pudding on top of him, however...

“Er... do you think we should talk about this?”

Draco growled in frustration. “Just go to sleep Potter!”

“But...”

Draco sighed in defeat. “We'll talk in the morning.”

Harry exhaled, also feeling like he was just too tired to talk properly. Over the next few minutes, their breathing smoothed out and they drifted off. Harry couldn't remember having better sleep in his life!

Until rather early in the morning. Harry stood watching helplessly as some poor sod was tortured mercilessly by Voldemort and Bellatrix – both of whom were cackling insanely. Harry tried his best to reach out and stop them. To cast spells that would make them focus on him instead. Only he couldn't.

“No... Stop!” Harry cried out in his sleep. “No more!” When he just couldn't take anymore, he sat up with a roar. “Fucking Voldemort! I'm going to _murder_ him the first chance I get!” He pressed a trio of fingers to his scar, which was currently burning and almost glowing from the pain.

Draco harrumphed derisively. “Good luck with that!” He sneered, but it was light on venom.

Harry whipped his head around to stare at Draco, and then closed his eyes to A: rub his scar in a futile attempt to get it to stop hurting, and B: take a few seconds to remember exactly why he was in bed with  _Malfoy_ ...

The memories rolled over him with enough intensity that he couldn't help but blush redder than he could remember ever doing before.

“Potter?” Draco asked in a tone that sounded uncertain and almost vulnerable.

“I, er...” Harry droned for a moment. “I remember, er...” he bit his lip and looked away to hide the way his blush got _even redder_ as he whispered: “ _Shagging_...” Then he cleared his throat. “And I remember giving you a bottle of Dragon Barrel Brandy. I remember drinking some with you, but... Everything in between those two events is a complete blank. Well... Blur...”

Draco took a deep breath in, and then slowly exhaled. “Yes... That fairly accurately describes my memories as well.” He pressed a hand to his own head because he had a rather impressive hangover. “Any idea where we are?”

But Harry didn't answer because he was currently sitting with his knees up to his chest and his head between them. He was tearing at his hair in a way that would probably hurt most people. His breath was coming out in short pants.

“Evil wanker! Why are you so happy?! How twisted do you have to _be_ to torture someone before even having breakfast _and get off on it_?!”

Draco was equal parts indignant and confused. “Are you talking to me?”

Before Harry could respond, the pain stopped abruptly, making him sigh in relief and sit up so that he could rub his scar. “The muggle must have died, poor sod.”

“Er...” Draco was staring at Harry warily.

“Any idea where we are?” Harry asked since his brain could process that question easier than: _Any idea why we thought it would be a good idea to jump in bed and shag for hours?_

Draco glared at him pointedly.

“Guess not,” Harry reasoned. He slid out of bed, blushing lightly again as he realized that he was still completely naked. 

The phone on the nearby table had a sign on it that read: “The Hammered Anvil – Gretna Green. Where the bloody hell is Gretna Green?” Harry wondered.

Draco tilted his head and bit his lip in thought. “I... I think it's near the Malfoy estate in the Scottish Lowlands.”

Harry looked around the room, blushing even harder as he realized that their clothes were strewn everywhere – as if discarded in a great rush to get to other, more important things. A peek at Draco assured Harry that the other boy was currently looking through a guide book that had also been on the nearby table.

Harry nearly slapped himself across the face when he realized that he was staring – literally  _staring_ – at Draco's completely uncovered and love bite laden body like it was a medium-rare steak and he was a starving man. With a disconcerting amount of effort, he forced himself to focus on getting dressed.  _Do Slytherins make a habit of lounging around naked? Is that why he doesn't care?_

With a sigh of frustration with himself over the subject of his thoughts, Harry pulled on his trousers. Then he bent over to pick up a piece of paper that was slightly crumpled. His eyes went round with horror as he read the paper – parchment actually – over and over.

Draco harrumphed from his cross-legged seat on the bed. “Well that's a load of thestral dung! Apparently, this town is famous to muggles for one reason: eloping! Scottish law is rather lax in its marriage standards and muggles only have to be 16 to get married here, and so, for some reason, they flock here to do it. Stupid muggles! Just find a room and shag! There's no need to get married so young!”

A pricking along his spine made him finally look up at Harry and notice the fact that Harry was currently looked like he had just been petrified while reading something utterly horrifying. “What?”

With a severely shaking hand, Harry handed the parchment to Draco. Puzzled, Draco read:

 

Official Certificate of Marriage

On the Second of May, Nineteen Hundred and Ninety Seven

Draco Lucius Malfoy and Harry James Potter

have been joined in holy matrimony.

 

The certificate had an official seal along with the name of the man who had performed the ceremony. Plus, what looked like their signatures written in what looked like blood. After a long moment, Draco realized that his mouth was hanging open in pure shock. He cleared his throat and actually used a hand to remind his brain of the proper way to lift his slack jaw.

Long before he felt ready, he looked up at Harry to find Harry still rather pale and shaky. Swallowing, Draco hastily composed himself. He tossed the parchment back to Harry with an arrogant snort.

“Don't flatter yourself, Potter. That's a meaningless piece of paper drawn up by a muggle. There's not a wizard law firm on the planet that would consider that valid.”

Harry's hand shook as he caught and held the certificate. “But... This, and...” He pointed to the bed. “That...”

Draco looked away and muttered: “That part was rather brilliant, but...” He looked up at Harry again. “That doesn't make that paper any more valid. Muggle laws don't apply to wizards, and wizard law states that a person has to be of legal age – hence 17 – before they can get married. Thus, it didn't happen.”

With a sigh of profound relief, Harry stuffed the parchment in his back pocket. “Alright. So. Maybe we should get back to Hogwarts before anyone notices that we're missing.”

“Too right!” Draco stated in agreement, forcibly tearing his eyes off the enticing trail of love bites on Harry's neck, chest, and abdomen. If he thought for a moment that Harry wouldn't be scared off by a second round of – ahem – “consummation,” Draco would have at least asked for another go. As it was, he was fairly sure that Harry would love to hex him for taking advantage of their mutual drunken horniness.

After they both got dressed and pocketed their wands, Draco Apparated them to the Alley behind the Three Broomsticks. Then he nearly smacked his forehead.

“I have no idea how we'll get back into the Castle – unless we wait for the gates to open. Is it a Hogsmeade weekend?”

“I don't remember,” Harry whispered in return. He bit his lip in thought for a moment, and then sighed in frustration. “I don't care if you trust me or not, I'm going to cast a temporary Blindness Jinx on you. I swear on my parents' grave that I won't hurt you, but this is the only way.” 

Draco bit his tongue to hold back everything he wanted to say, and then decided that there was no reason to hold back. “You're bloody mad if you think I would ever trust you, and why in the seven levels of hell would I let you blind me? You can do things to me that don't break your promise but still get me in trouble or have a bad –”

He was cut short when Harry simply cast the Blinding Jinx and seized his arm. “Shut it or we'll get caught!”

Not able to argue that advice, Draco was torn between obeying and  _never_ doing anything that Harry ordered him to. As a compromise, he continued his tirade as quietly as possible. Also as part of the compromise, he allowed Harry to lead him.

They stopped outside one of the buildings in Hogsmeade just long enough for Harry to cast an unlocking spell. Then they carefully walked around a lot of things before they descended some stairs. Draco fell silent when he realized that someone could potentially hear him and he didn't want to have to explain why he and Harry were sneaking back into school after an unauthorized excursion.

A sudden creaking sounded very loud in the silence, but no one seemed to hear it. Then Draco was led down more stairs – more creaking suggested the closing of what had to be a door of some sort. After that came the longest and most mind numbingly boring walk of his life! He resumed his quiet muttering at some point, even going so far as to detail a great number of unpleasant curses he could and would use on Harry the moment he could see again.

At some point, Harry helped him climb what felt like a series of purposely carved indents in a slanted... wall? Almost felt like a slide. Made of stone. Hmm...

Finally, they tumbled out onto a familiar feeling floor. Harry yanked Draco to his feet, and then dragged him to the main staircase and waited in silence for a couple minutes before  _finally_ ending the spell blinding him. Draco looked around, wondering if he could figure out on his own where that – obviously secret – passage was. However, the stairs had shifted about enough that he wasn't entirely certain where they had come from – thus finding that passage would probably be impossible.

Glaring at Harry, Draco ground out: “ _Handy_ ...”

Harry shrugged unrepentantly. Then he pointed down to the great hall. “By the look of the light coming in the windows, we could go to breakfast, even though almost everyone else is probably still in bed since it's Saturday. Unless it's Sunday...”

Neither boy was entirely sure how long they'd been drunk and apparently wandering the Scottish Lowlands. Draco shrugged.

“Everyone would still be in bed – or just getting out of bed – even if it was Monday. So let's just return to our respective dorms and get a bit more sleep while we still can.”

Harry sighed in relief and nodded. “Yes.” He took a step up, and then looked down at Draco. “Er... erm... er...”

“Oh for fuck's sake! Spit it out Potter!” Draco commanded impatiently.

Harry took a deep breath, his cheeks burning for the dozenth time that morning. “Thanks... for... making  _that_ so... brilliant...”

Draco huffed a soft laugh. “I could say the same. Haven't had such an enjoyable night since, well...” He shrugged, refusing to elaborate.

With a nod, Harry turned and forced himself to pay attention as he rushed back to his dorm. The last thing he needed was to get lost in thought followed by lost in the castle while trying to get back to his dorm. He only looked back at Draco's receding form once. Or twice. The third time, Draco had already disappeared into the dungeons.

With a strangely disappointed sigh, Harry finished returning to his dorm.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Warning, mild angst ahead...


End file.
